The Down-Low on Eldorado
By Wyatt L. McKean | May 1, 2008
American polygamists are by and large unwelcome
When I left Utah for college, I expected to leave its bizarre, enigmatic culture behind. I thought I was done hearing the word "polygamy" in the news. I certainly didn't expect that, only seven months into my Dartmouth career, events in southwest Texas would bring a healthy dose of hometown politics into the mainstream.
On April 3, Texas authorities raided the Eldorado compound of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (FLDS), a "splinter-sect" of Mormonism known primarily for its espousal of polygamy. Acting on a tip from a frantic 16-year-old mother who alleged that her 50-year-old husband had physically abused her, state troopers staged a dramatic foray into the heart of the community by breaking into the temple and ultimately seizing 416 children. It quickly became the largest child welfare operation in US history.
The raid has drawn the attention of the national media: the FLDS church now graces the front pages of The New York Times and The Washington Post, while CNN's Anderson Cooper 360 has provided regular updates on the case and Larry King Live recently featured a discussion group exploring different perspectives on the issue of plural marriage. Although the loaded question of polygamy may now be making its nationwide debut, it has been smoldering in the Beehive State for over a century.
For the most part, it seems that American perceptions of polygamy and Mormonism are both negative and completely uninformed. The media has rarely provided thorough background information on the subject, preferring to focus on abnormal spectacles like the Eldorado operation. The issue is complex enough, however, to warrant a little more explanation than what Anderson Cooper tends to give.
Mormonism was established in upstate New York in 1830 by a young man named Joseph Smith. A self-proclaimed prophet and revelator, Smith produced the Book of Mormon, which he claimed to have translated into English from a set of ancient plates buried near his home. The work constitutes Mormonism's holy text and is often subtitled "Another Testament of Jesus Christ." He called his religion "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints," often abbreviated simply as "LDS."
Smith was remarkably charismatic and attracted numerous followers. Under his guidance, the church gradually migrated westward to Independence, Missouri, where he envisioned building a "City of Zion," a Mormon capital of sorts. Though the early history of the LDS church mirrored that of other developing Christian sects of the time, Mormonism soon took on a life of its own. LDS culture was insular and secretive; the Missouri locals found it baffling and disturbing. Following a series of armed conflicts, the Mormons were forcibly expelled by order of the governor.
They didn't receive a much warmer welcome in Nauvoo, Illinois, where the growing community attempted to re-settle. In 1844, a local newspaper published a story accusing Joseph Smith and other church elites of practicing polygamy. Smith ordered the paper's printing press destroyed in response, which sparked a violent uproar. After a tense standoff with state authorities, he agreed to stand trial for "inciting a riot" in nearby Carthage, Illinois, and reported to jail there. He met his demise soon thereafter when an angry mob assembled at his jail cell and shot him.
Smith is indeed believed to have practiced polygamy, along with a few close associates, as early as 1833. Though it was initially kept secret, the theological basis for plural marriage was formally announced after the church moved westward under the leadership of Brigham Young and founded its new capital in the Salt Lake Valley. To loosely paraphrase, the Mormons believed that, if their marriages were properly "sealed," one's family remained united for eternity. The size of a person's family, among other factors, helped determine the level of "exaltation" they attained in the afterlife. Modern Fundamentalist Mormons still believe plural marriage to be essential to entering the highest sphere of heaven.
In the coming years, LDS society would flourish in the wilderness, though the Mormons would also face mounting pressure from the federal government. Lawmakers in Washington were unsettled both by polygamy and the Mormons' apparent aspirations of establishing a sovereign nation in the Utah Territory. Federal troops were eventually stationed in garrisons throughout the state to keep an eye on church activities.
As the 19th century wore on, it became increasingly difficult for the church to keep itself as sequestered from civilization as it had been in the past. Leaders eventually came to see the benefits of reconciling with the government and gaining statehood for the Utah Territory. Their requests for statehood were repeatedly denied, however, due to the polygamy issue. Finally, in 1890, LDS President Wilford Woodruff issued a decisive manifesto suspending the practice indefinitely. A 1904 manifesto, issued by his successor, ended official sanction of polygamous marriages altogether. Congress finally approved Utah's petition for statehood in 1896.
During the 20th century, the LDS faith sought to normalize its culture with the outside world. Its efforts were largely successful. Today, most of Utah is indistinguishable from the rest of mainstream America; mainstream Mormons, who account for 60% of the state's population, do not practice polygamy.
As a matter of fact, the modern LDS church abhors plural marriage and considers it an excommunicable offense. Church historians and scholars recognize its contribution to Mormon heritage, but it is widely considered a closed chapter of LDS history. If my experience with Mormons in Utah is any indication, ordinary Mormons resent being mistaken for polygamists. Many are uncomfortable when confronted about the now-forbidden custom; still others see it as a blemish on the exceedingly "normal" image they now try so hard to project.
Compounding this "identity crisis" are the numerous Mormon splinter groups that have emerged since the 1904 Manifesto. They continue many of the traditions of the old church, including polygamy, and believe that the church in Salt Lake was corrupted in its pursuit of outside approval. These groups, including the FLDS, established numerous enclaves throughout Utah. The Salt Lake Tribune estimates the current number of polygamous Mormons in Utah to be approximately 37,000.
Though a few brazen polygamist families have set up shop along the metropolitan Wasatch Front, most of Utah's polygamist sects have moved to isolated communities in the state's southern deserts. Most of these communities are small and unassuming, but some, like Hildale, Utah (home of the FLDS church) and Colorado City, Arizona (Hildale's "sister city"), have populations in the thousands. The inhabitants of these cities have proven to be just as reclusive and misunderstood as their ancestors in Illinois and Missouri, and they have drawn almost as much scrutiny from the outside world.
Lawmakers and the general public have taken issue with some key aspects of polygamist life and culture. The first is the legality of the plural marriages themselves. As a condition for statehood, a provision specifically forbidding polygamy was written into Utah's constitution. Although this provision used to be strictly enforced, to generally turns a blind eye to polygamist families as long as they do not seek legal recognition for multiple wives. However, polygamist households manage to reap certain financial gains by claiming sister-wives as dependents on their tax returns. Arrests for tax evasion are common in polygamist communities as a result.
The second is the unique social structure of fundamentalist Mormon enclaves. Large, prominent sects like the FLDS church operate under a kind of communalism with rigid organizational hierarchies. In Hildale, Colorado City, and the Eldorado compound (known by its members as the Yearning for Zion Ranch), for instance, the FLDS church monopolizes local business and government. FLDS members do not own property of their own - the church distributes housing and jobs subjectively, taking into account members' age and relationships to church leaders. The church prophet exerts authoritarian control over the community and can evict families at will.
Even more controversial is the role of women in FLDS society. Mormon culture, both fundamentalist and mainstream, is characteristically patriarchal. Wives tend to be considered property in certain respects, as they can be distributed and re-distributed by the prophet. A family patriarch who upsets his superiors may find himself evicted from his home, stripped of his belongings, and separated from his wife and children, who are then placed in the care of another member. The polygamist lifestyle also creates a surplus of eligible young men in these communities, who are sometimes banished for minor religious offenses in order to make room for their older, better-connected counterparts.
FLDS enclaves are relatively cut off from the outside world, making intervention in these practices difficult. Members tend to be closely interrelated. Inbreeding is so common that Hildale has the world's highest local incidence of Fumarase deficiency, an inherited birth defect that causes severe mental retardation. FLDS children are taught at home or in church-run schools and have no television or Internet access. Their concept of the outside world is stiflingly limited. FLDS youths may be told that the outside world is hostile to them or downright evil.
Perhaps the most contentious aspect of FLDS culture is the group's underage marriages. In keeping with the patriarchal nature of their society and the relatively low autonomy given to members, girls in the church are expected to begin their reproductive careers early. The suppression of younger FLDS men means that brides (who can be in their early teens) typically wed men much older than them. The frantic 16-year-old who called authorities in Texas and sparked the Eldorado raid was one such case, though it is unknown how widespread such abuse occurs in these relationships. Authorities have nevertheless tried to curb this practice and have apprehended numerous FLDS men over the years on charges of statutory rape. Church elites like the recently jailed FLDS prophet Warren Jeffs have similarly been tried for overseeing and conducting such abusive or underage marriages. Building cases against them is difficult, however, in the absence of a compliant local police force. The vast majority of offenses go unreported, and most adolescent sister-wives pass quietly and obediently into adulthood.
As the American public learns more about the inner-workings of the FLDS church and other fundamentalist Mormon sects, the sense of outrage is sure to swell. Polygamy is now inching closer and closer to becoming an issue of national concern. But no matter how unsettling these revelations may be, Americans need to make some objective decisions about intervening in polygamist affairs.
To what extent is plural marriage a question of religious freedom? And to what extent is it the responsibility of the government to protect people from their own culture?
To be sure, fundamentalist Mormon customs will insult the sensibilities of many ordinary Americans. But we should remember that radical polygamists are living in another century, and really another world altogether. It is up to us to bring them home to the present?
So far in Utah, the answer has been a resounding "yes." But to be fair, the Beehive State's halls of government are filled with conventional Mormons whose views are biased by their religion's history. A solid majority of them could probably point to multiple polygamist ancestors in their own family trees--underage wives and mothers included. The desire to confront this chapter of their history has led the LDS mainstream to take an overzealous, ham-fisted approach to solving the polygamy problem. With Mormons' long history of persecution, you would think they'd know better.
When Warren Jeffs transplanted his FLDS community from Hildale to Eldorado in 2004, he may have been hoping to move the church into a domain where his sect could operate in relative obscurity. With the April 3 raid, such a goal is no longer possible. But now that the issue is being examined by a wider, presumably neutral national audience, a fairer answer to the polygamy question may be in the works.